


Tainted Love

by Neliore



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Dubious Consent, First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 16:05:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4026199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neliore/pseuds/Neliore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robb has always been such a perfectly behaved boy, as impeccable as only Lord Eddard Stark's heir can be. But Robb is also a tease, who needs a lesson. And one that books and maesters won't teach him.<br/>Chapter 4: Up until just a few days ago, Jon didn't know he had it in him to speak such words out loud. He feels his cheeks burn with shame, but he's gone too far to care now. In this moment, there's only Robb's squirmy ass pressed firmly against his crotch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rovardotter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rovardotter/gifts).



> This is a gift for the most wonderful and lovely super talented Rovardotter <3 And, because I strive to please her so hard, this is a Jon/Robb/Theon fic in which Robb will not be a third wheel. On the contrary - this is all about Robb. Only, he might be wishing it wasn't so. 
> 
> Super great thanks to my lovely betas: my most precious girl [Heloisa](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Heloisa/pseuds/Heloisa) whose help is invaluable, and my sweet [bluetilo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetilo/pseuds/bluetilo) who still so selflessly manages to find the time for me and my writings.

Theon Greyjoy sits at the desk in the Maester's study, leaned over some parchments. Robb and Jon seem just as engrossed in their papers. Maester Luwin has given them a history assignment, and Theon really should try better, remember what he read in the book and give the answer to the questions asked, but he cannot focus. It's not just a simple question, like in what year did such and such happen or who won this or that battle. No. Maester Luwin wants to know so much more, always going on about the causes and consequences, so these little tests he makes for them require attention and full thinking capacity, whereas Theon has none of those at the moment.

Every now and then he glances at Robb, who is sitting across from him. Robb with his auburn curls, frowning slightly as he writes answers in his neat handwriting, fast and dedicated, shut down from the rest of the world, lost in the causes and consequences of Faith Militant Uprising. His eyes are on the paper and Theon can see his eyelashes shutter every once in a while as his gaze moves over the writing. His eyelashes are auburn too, and Theon smiles fondly, then quickly remembers himself and pretends again to be fully focused on Westeros' history.

In the end, Theon writes nothing, and the only reason he is not given an ear-reddening scolding when Maester Luwin collects his blank paper, is that Jon Snow didn't do much better either - his paper isn't blank as Theon's, but it only has two short lines written, ink smudged all over them. Robb has written his detailed response on over three pages, and it not only looks neat and tidy but is probably correct and praise-worthy. He has always been such dutiful student, hardworking and obedient. Like in everything else, really, Robb is most proper.

Robb has always been such a perfectly behaved boy, as impeccable as only Lord Eddard Stark's heir can be. He rarely drinks, and when he does, it's one cup only. He has never been heard to curse or use foul language. He never goes whoring like Theon does, and he has never as much as inappropriately  _looked_  at a serving wench. But Robb is a tease. There's no denying that. He has this way of looking at Theon, seemingly coy and brotherly, but there's  _something_  in his gaze, a submission of sorts, an admiration too, and there is most definitely an invitation, a request to be dominated, manhandled, conquered. Theon sees it, and he can hardly resist the urge to do just that.

Theon has long ago noticed the way Robb listens to his talks about his bedding conquests, the way he blushes, short of breath, aroused and intrigued. That gives Theon a cue to talk even more, in explicit detail, staring at Robb's eyes, luring him into this decadent and lewd world of whorehouses and spread legs.

After his debacle at the test Maester Luwin has given them, Theon is happy to be out of the study. They will have a short break before lunch and then practice with Ser Rodrik. Robb is so pleased with himself - he's done really well on the test - but Jon is sullen and worried. Lord Stark won't be pleased his bastard son doesn't study as well as he should. Theon should be worried too - there's hardly a thing more unpleasant than having to listen to Lord Stark's lectures - but they are all walking towards Robb's chamber and Theon is already thinking of the story he will tell Robb today.

"You two should have studied more," Robb tells them, sitting on his chair by the window. "Father will not like it."

"I studied," Jon says in a gruff tone, leaning on the window sill. "It was just that one chapter I missed. If there was a different question I'd have done well."

Theon laughs. "You always say that, Snow. Come up with another excuse for a change."

Jon looks daggers at him, but Theon doesn't care. He sprawls on the bed - Robb's bed - and exhales, stretching. "There are more important things in life than some ragged septons going wild and unruly." Theon smiles smugly, raising his eyebrows. "And books and maesters won't teach you that, boys."

Jon scoffs, but Robb chuckles. "Will  _you_  teach us that, Theon?" he asks, the little tease.

Theon licks his lips, giving Robb his most seductive glance. "Aye. I might. If I'm feeling generous. For you'll find no better teacher anywhere else in this world, Westeros and beyond."

Robb giggles like a silly girl, and Jon rolls his eyes, but none of them speak.

Theon clears his throat. "Many would pay their weight in gold for the wisdom I might so generously share with you."

"For free?" Robb asks, playful as ever.

Had it been just the two of them, Theon would demand a fair price, but the bastard's presence is spoiling it, so he confirms. "For free." But he can't resist adding,  "Though I'll accept any gift of gratitude."

Robb laughs at that, and Jon shakes his head.

"Say, Theon," Robb continues with his teasing, cheeky as a Lyseni whore, "and who taught  _you_  that fine wisdom? And how much gold did you pay for those lessons?"

Theon clicks his tongue, shifting on the bed. This talk is making him restless, and a bit hard. "I am ironborn, Robb, I don't deal in gold, I pay the iron price." Theon spreads his legs, making sure the bulge in his pants is visible, there for Robb to see.

"So you killed someone for that supreme knowledge?" the bastard Snow asks impatiently, his tone mocking, ever the spoil sport.

"No, Snow," Theon snaps back at him, before looking to Robb again."I didn't have to. I was born with it. Yet another of my many talents. Us Greyjoys are famed for our skills in archery, navigation, and lovemaking."

That has Robb laughing out loud. But Theon can see the way Robb glances at his crotch, no doubt admiring the size of Theon's swollen manhood, threatening to tear his breeches how hard it is.

Suddenly a maid knocks at the door, interrupting this ticklish talk. It's time for meal and Lady Stark demands their presence at once. For the rest of the day, even as Lord Stark lectures him and Snow over their miserably done test, Theon thinks about teaching Robb some very private lessons.

In the evening, Theon walks over to Robb right after supper, pulling him to the side.

"Listen, Robb," he tells him, looking carefully around, his whisper almost conspiratory. "Come to my chamber tonight. There's something I want to show you."

"What?" Robb smiles.

"Something." Theon nods, smiling back, then quickly adds, "But don't bring Snow, it's better if you're alone."

Up in his chamber, Theon waits for Robb. He has washed himself carefully that day, and is now chewing on some mint leaves, admiring his own reflection in a mirror. He brushes fingers through his hair, trying to see if it looks better when it's slightly on the right or the left side. He settles for the left, grinning widely. There are only a few candles burning in his chamber; their light is warm and soft, making the room seem even more pleasant.

When Robb knocks, Theon rushes to open. He throws himself on a chair and Robb has no choice but to sit on Theon's bed. Theon pours Robb a cup of wine, then sits right next to him.

Robb sips his wine, looking rather comfortable, and Theon decides he must know why he's called him. He will not beat around the bush.

"Robb," Theon starts, sly smile on his lips, and the tone of his voice sweet and smooth, "you've noticed the way little Jeyne Poole is looking at you?"

Robb blushes through a no.

"She likes you, Robb, that is clear. It might be fun to see just how much, am I right?" Theon grins suggestively, but Robb stays quiet.

Theon gets straight to the point. "You've never really fucked a girl, have you?"

Robb gasps, probably faking surprise, then chuckles, blushing. "I um... I, no... I, um, it wouldn't be... I haven't. Why?"

"You tell me," Theon says as he leans closer to him.

"What? What do you mean?" Robb is playing dumb, Theon can see it clearly. Still, he decides to play along; if the little lordling likes playing hard to get, Theon has always enjoyed the fine art of seduction, the thrill of the chase.

"I mean," he says, looking straight at Robb's eyes as he brings his finger to Robb's knee, slowly gliding it up his thigh, "I know why you haven't been so keen on fucking girls. I know you know it too."

Robb swallows, looking confused, but he is not moving away.

Theon, encouraged, continues, "So if we both know you don't really like girls-"

"What?" Robb interrupts him. "I like girls, I just-"

"Shh," Theon whispers as he places a finger on Robb's mouth. "Shh, no need to explain. I understand."

He comes so close to Robb, watching Robb's eyes grow wider, and presses his lips on Robb's and his hand on Robb's crotch.

Robb backs away, mouth open in awe. "Theon, what are you-"

But Theon goes after him, kissing him again, rubbing his hand over Robb's cock, before Robb jumps off the bed, shaking Theon's touches off of him. "Have you no shame?"

Theon stands up as well, trying to pull Robb in his embrace. "There's no shame in that, Robb. You needn't be ashamed. I will show you everything. I know what you want."

Robb again wiggles free. "Let me go, Theon. What's gotten into you? Are you drunk?"

Theon gets agitated. Robb can play hard to get a little, but this is too much now. He grabs Robb, pushing him onto the bed, falling over him as his hands grope Robb's ass.

Robb groans, pushing Theon so forcibly he falls down to the floor. Robb quickly stands up, tidying his clothes.

"I will let this incident pass, but if you mistake me for one of your whores and wenches again, both Lord and Lady Stark will know of it."

With that, Robb turns around and leaves, slamming the heavy door shut behind him, leaving Theon to sit on the floor, as good as slapped, with his cock hard and his mind swirling in confusion. Who does Robb think he is? Little brat.

Slowly, perplexity and hurt give way to rage, as Theon goes to bed and strokes his cock angrily, vowing revenge on the little lorldling who teased him endlessly, only to act all prim and proper, rejecting Theon, who was just trying to be nice and selflessly give him what he so clearly craves. Robb needs a lesson - one that books and maesters won't teach him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All of what Robb had - Winterfell, the North, being a Stark - Jon never even presumed he might claim. But his brother, with soft freckled skin and auburn curls, with his strong young body, full lips and deep blue eyes, that Jon felt entitled to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dearest sweetest [Heloisa](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Heloisa/pseuds/Heloisa) did beta and I can never be thankful enough. You're the best, baby, I love you <3

Jon still remembers the first time he felt that being naked with Robb was different than brothers simply being comfortable in each other's presence.

He and Robb have always been close, and he never thought it strange when their easily shared touches grew more intimate. They were just young boys, exploring what nature has given them. The shared baths, change of clothes after their sword practice, huddling for warmth in the same bed late at night, ever since they were little children, they all meant nothing. 

Until one day they did.

They were in the hot pools, and the way Robb was splashing and jumping, revealing the ginger fuzz of his crotch, all wet and delectable, made Jon harden. Jon was at first embarrassed, but Robb laughed as if it was nothing. Then he observed Jon's swollen prick with unhidden interest, even showed Jon his own. Soon this turned into a game between them - I'll show you mine if you show me yours. And Robb was always so eager to show all he's got, not feeling any shame or guilt.

Showing gave way to touching. Robb touched himself for Jon, many times. He rubbed and squeezed his cock until seed came out spurting. Jon did the same. They compared the secretions, and Robb went as far as to taste it, both his own and Jon's. That was the most arousing thing Jon had ever seen. Robb even let Jon touch him; his chest and cock, balls and ass - everywhere. Robb liked it. They both did. Jon has gotten to know his brother's body so closely. Hot pools, baths and long nights in Winterfell gave them the chance to study each other's reactions to those touches that were still very much innocent, as that was all they were - just touches. Jon yearned for more and hoped that Robb would allow more, when the time comes, if he is patient, if he waits.

So Jon couldn't understand when after years of such sweet intimacy he and his brother shared - like all boys do, don't they? - Robb suddenly decided it should stop. The playful exploration they enjoyed as children Robb now found unseemly.

"We are older now, Jon, almost men grown. And men don't do these things," Robb explained.

Jon said nothing, sulking for days and yet feeling too proud to show how hurt he was by Robb's rejection. Robb pretended nothing was amiss, he was cheerful and easy to smile, dutiful and polite, just how he's always been, except that there was now this solemn air around him, some inexplicable aloofness. 

Robb was to be a lord, warden of the North, and he grew more into this role with each new passing day. Jon was what he's always been - a bastard. All of what Robb had - Winterfell, the North, being a Stark - Jon never even presumed he might claim. But his brother, with soft freckled skin and auburn curls, with his strong young body, full lips and deep blue eyes, that Jon felt entitled to.  

Had Robb persisted in his loss of interest in the special touches they used to share, Jon might have forgotten about it, or he fooled himself to think so. But Robb acts far from demure. Jon can see the way Robb's eyes light up whenever Theon Greyjoy tells one of his lewd stories. He sees how in awe Robb is of everything Theon says or does. Jon also sees how Theon looks at Robb, lecherous and wanton.

And when, one night, Jon sees Robb leave Theon's chamber, all flushed and red in the face, looking around carefully as he sneaks back to his own chamber, Jon knows very well what his brother has been doing with Greyjoy.

Jon waits for a couple of days, looking for more clues to confirm his doubts, but when he finds none, he decides to confront Robb about it anyway.

The opportunity arises when Theon decides to get lost one day after their sword practice, leaving Jon and Robb alone in the armoury to return the swords to their place.

Robb stretches, groaning loudly. "Gods, I feel tired," he says, chuckling. "You wore me down today." His blue eyes smile at Jon, and Jon hesitates for a moment, thinking about letting it go. But he can't - it's stronger than him.

"Surely not like Theon did the other night?" he tries not to sulk, but his tone can hardly hide his wounds.

"What?" Robb is still smiling, looking at Jon.

"I said," Jon repeats, louder, "surely not like Theon wore you down the other night."

Robb licks his lips, confused. "I don't understand. What night? Wore me down how- We haven't sparred any night, what are you talking about?"

Jon leaves the swords and stands up to stare at his brother. "You know what I'm talking about, Robb. I saw you."

"Saw me where?" Robb is still feigning innocence, and that angers Jon.

He steps so close to Robb, glaring. "Saw you leaving his chamber, blushing like a maid and panting like a whore.  _Worn. Down_."

"Don't be ridiculous." Robb scoffs at him. "We shared a cup of wine, that's all."

"It must've been a real tiring cup of wine." Jon is not backing off.

Robb licks his lips, daring to look incredulous. "What do you take me for, Snow?"

Hearing Robb say his last name has Jon's blood boiling. "I took you for a brother, but I see Greyjoy takes you for a whore,  _Stark_."

Robb blushes, so easily, and that's all the confirmation Jon needs. He goes on, "I guess I'm not good enough for you. Can't compare to Theon Greyjoy and all his... Well, I am sure he told you just the right things to have you let him... To have you... how he wanted."

"Stop it, Jon," Robb warns him, his finger raised to Jon's face.

Jon grabs Robb's finger, twisting his arm to the side. "No, you stop it," he hisses, his grip on Robb's arm not loosening. "Stop denying it, and stop making a fool of me, Robb. I know you like the touches. I know all too well just how shameless you can get. And I know Theon Greyjoy well enough to know he wouldn't stop at innocent sweet caresses, like the ones you allowed me, but will only settle for his whole length buried in you."

Robb's push takes Jon by surprise. He stumbles backwards, arms waving clumsily for balance, looking for support, until he is leaning against the wall, shocked that Robb shoved him.

"You watch your words, Jon Snow," Robb growls at him. "It's the future Lord of Winterfell you're speaking to. You have no right to speak to me like that."

They glower at each other for a moment, then Jon turns around and leaves, kicking a wooden tool box on his way out. The sudden brightness of the early afternoon hurts his eyes, but not as much as the sight of Theon Greyjoy sitting on a fence nearby, smirking at him.

Jon swears under his breath as he hurries to the godswood to be alone. There, beneath the heart tree, he lets his frustration take over him completely. The turmoil of his mind infects his body too, and Jon is hard and restless. He looks around. He's alone in the godswood; everyone's getting ready for supper, no one will come.

Jon's hand finds way into his breeches, as he rubs himself, slowly and cautiously at first. But soon he cannot restrain himself any longer and he takes his cock out to his palm, and starts stroking it for real, not minding anymore in the least bit that the old gods are watching. Jon is so angry, and so hard. But Robb is right, isn't he - he really will be Lord of Winterfell. His bastard brother's touches are no longer good for him.

Robb's words still echo in his mind.

_You watch your words, Jon Snow. It's the future Lord of Winterfell you're speaking to._

He fucks his fist, furiously pumping, thinking how there's nothing he'd like more than to stuff the future Lord of Winterfell's big mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If the fact that Theon and Jon seem to share interest for boys hasn't surprised Theon all that much, realising that the object of Jon's attraction is his own half-brother has shocked him beyond words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My greatest thanks to my beloved beta, lovely [Heloisa](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Heloisa/pseuds/Heloisa) for all her kind help and wise advice <3
> 
> And, dear sweet [Rovardotter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Rovardotter/pseuds/Rovardotter) , it is such a challenge to write a gift for you, not only because you're one of the best authors ever but also because you are so wonderful that you deserve the most precious gifts of all, and while I'm not sure mine comes even close to that, I hope it conveys all the gentle fondness my heart has for you, or that it's at least amusing <3

It's been a few days that Theon's been following Jon. The bastard seems more sullen than usual, sulking around Winterfell, following Robb like a lost puppy one moment only to start avoiding him the next. Something strange is going on. More importantly, something strange is going on between Jon and  _Robb_.

If Robb is as perfect and impeccable as only Lord Eddard's Stark heir can be, Robb's bastard half-brother is much less demure, though he tries. He is always on his best behaviour, especially with Catelyn Stark watching his every move, just waiting for the slightest transgression to have his head on a plate. However, Theon sees things. It must be his bastardly wanton nature, as Theon has seen the way he looks at his brother. He has also seen the way he tries to get close to him, or how he tries to hide the bulge in his pants whenever Robb's brotherly touches stir something quite unbrotherly in him.

If the fact that he and Jon seem to share interest for boys hasn't surprised Theon all that much, realising that the object of Jon's attraction is his own half-brother has shocked Theon beyond words. At first, Theon thought he was wrong. His own brother? It surely can't be- or can it? Because, judging by the way the bastard leers at Robb, there could be no doubt. What a twisted little chap. Not even Theon was that perverse. And yet, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense - Robb is a tease, and a pretty one as well. And Snow, like Theon, is only human. Besides, mayhaps Snow's bizarre disposition can help Theon. But he has to get to the bottom of things before he makes such outrageous assumptions.

The day before, right after their daily drill in the practice yard, the boys were ordered to return the swords to the armoury. Theon found some excuse to get lost, leaving the brothers alone. Just a few moments had passed before Theon saw Jon storm out of the armoury, flushed and fuming with anger. Robb showed up later, slightly red in the face, but with his head held high, looking dignified like the little lordling that he is. Jon seemed to be in a particularly sour mood ever since, while Robb continued putting up airs.

These days it's hard not to get annoyed with Robb's holier-than-you attitude. After that night in Theon's chamber, Robb was careful to avoid being alone with Theon, but also to show how a proper young lad should carry himself - his prim honourable act intensified by thousandfold - all the while trying to behave as if all is well between them. That is so irritating, Theon wishes to slap him. Then the funniest thing happen - Theon doesn't really have to, as it is Jon who does it for him. Well, not exactly slap, but almost.

The bastard's temper is wild, but he's always been sweet to his brother. Not today, though. He's been seething and fuming since breakfast. It's not a rare occurrence to see Jon Snow in a foul mood, but this time Theon is certain it's  something to do with Robb. 

As the two brothers spar, Theon observes them intensely. Robb seems normal at first, but after some careful watching, Theon notices that he is not only trying to avoid Jon's sword but also any kind of contact with his half-brother. He is dodging the blows as best he can, but he is also standing a bit too far away, so careful not to touch Jon that he almost doesn't even charge at him at all. After a while, Ser Rodrik notices it too, and reprimands him for his lack of offensive.

Still, Robb avoids charging at Jon properly. That is odd. There's no need to fear he might hurt the bastard as Jon's skill with the sword is enviable - he is even better at it than Robb - but it can't be that Robb himself is afraid of getting hurt, as Robb never hesitates being thrashed in the practice yard. It must be something else.

Jon is also getting agitated. Every blow or move his brother tries to slack seems to ignite his rage further. Theon is dying to know why is he so angry and what is going on between them.

At one point Jon charges at Robb and, annoyed that Robb won't meet his blow, he pushes him a bit too hard, which results in Robb sprawled down on the ground and Jon falling on top of him, elbow straight into Robb's face.

"I- I am sorry," Jon mutters as he gets up, offering him a hand.

Robb takes it, nodding. They get up, Robb holding a hand over his eye and Jon looking awkward. It was an accident alright, and they make nothing of it, but Theon can't wait for the nightfall, he's already plotting a plan to find out what it was that irked Snow so much.

After supper, Theon sweet-talks a kitchen wench into giving him a flagon of wine. Stupid cow has it watered down, but it will do. He sits in the bastard's room, waiting for him. Snow's given Robb a nasty bruise and was punished for that by having to polish half of the damned weapons in the armoury. Courtesy of Lady Stark, no doubt, who nearly fainted when she saw the angry red splotch over her precious boy's left eye. Truth be told, as unnecessary and overly harsh his punishment was, as such accidents happen all the time, like Lord Stark explained, Jon got off lightly. Theon thought he'd be skinned alive, judging by the way she screamed. Having to polish some swords well into the night was nothing. 

When Jon finally comes, he frowns seeing Theon sitting comfortably on his bed. He clearly hasn't expected it, but he looks too tired to show if that surprises or confuses him. Probably both.

"What are  _you_ doing here?" Jon asks.

Theon lets out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head slightly, and smiles. "I thought you could use some company. I thought  _I_  could use some company. And this wine won't drink itself."

The way Jon looks at him tells him he knows there's more to it. Jon starts taking off his sweaty garments in silence.  _Never much for talking, arrogant bastard._  Well, Theon hopes to change that soon. He offers him a cup, smiling again. Jon eyes it suspiciously, but when he sees Theon take a sip, he slumps down to the bed, just in his soft leather breeches, not bothering with a new shirt, exhales tiredly, rubbing his eyes, and starts drinking.

"What do you want, Greyjoy? Why are you here?"

Theon chuckles. "Gods, but you are inhospitable. Relax, Snow, I just want to share a cup or two, that's all."

"Well, share it and then leave. I am tired."

Theon now tries his best to appear compassionate, and his tone is serious and sincere. "Yes, I thought you might be. Not quite fair what happened today."

Jon is still on a defensive. "Why do you care about it?"

Theon shrugs, as if he doesn't, but a moment later he quietly adds, "Because I suffer the same unjust treatment whenever your brother as much as loses an eyelash."

That seems to work. Jon nods and sips the wine slowly, not saying another word. Theon lets him relax some more, pouring him another cup when the first one is emptied, and Jon accepts it, even smiling a little. He is so obviously knackered, and it works to Theon's advantage. He hasn't even started the second cup, but the wine has affected him already. It'll be a child's play for Theon to find out what he wants.

"Robb should have objected," Theon carefully notices.

"Hm?" Jon seems surprised at Theon's sudden observation.

"When you were punished, I mean. He should have objected. It was an accident," Theon clarifies.

Jon sighs. "Aye, it was an accident. But you know Robb, he'd never contradict Lady Stark like that."

"Even your father said accidents like that are common." Theon nods wisely. "And besides, wasn't it only a couple of moons back when you yourself were bruised during practice? I don't remember Robb slaving away with the serfs over it."

Jon's eyes darken over this reminder, and Theon congratulates himself on a move well played. Exposing the unfairness of the bastard's position is a cruelty that will help him have Jon open up, but he must be careful, as if he pushes him too hard, Jon might retreat into his sullen quiet shell and never allow Theon close again.

Theon keeps quiet now, letting his words sink in. After a while, it is Jon who speaks, his raspy voice revealing some uncertainty, "It's not Robb's fault."

"Of course not," Theon supplies quickly. "Robb is a good lad. Besides, whatever you two fought about yesterday in the armoury is probably nothing."

Jon blushes to these words, looking so uncomfortable all of a sudden, eyes not daring to meet Theon's. Theon smiles, pouring more wine into Jon's cup.

"What did you fight about?"

"Nothing."

Theon gives a soft chuckle. "You don't have to tell me, Jon." He uses the bastard's first name instead of the usual Snow, hoping it might add to familiarity between them and make Jon talk. "I know all about it anyway. Robb told me."

Jon stares at Theon, suddenly very pale, but all the wine he's had make his gaze seem unfocused, not really harsh.

Theon prays his bluff works. He places his hand on Jon's naked shoulder, giving a gentle brotherly tap. "Robb tells me everything. And some of his talk is, well, it's... um..." Theon ends his sentence with a sigh.

"So you know then?" Jon asks.

Theon takes a sip of wine, delighting in making Jon wait before he confirms, nodding his head.

Jon is again silent for a while, but then he finally lifts his head, looking at Theon, his gaze almost pleading. "Will you tell anyone?"

Theon smiles, trying to appear kind. "Never. Your secret is safe with me."

Jon still looks as if he doesn't trust him, so Theon adds, "You see, Jon, you and I have more things in common than we thought."

Jon frowns, obviously confused. But then he lowers his eyes, blushing. Theon can see he's uncomfortable.

He gives Jon a very compassionate look and speaks softly, "Just like with you, he... he provoked me. He wanted it. But then, it was so confusing... He rejected me. ButI would never force him."

At those words Jon starts speaking, his tone now getting more excited, "I would never force him either. I... I love him. He did want it. He acted-"

"Yes, Robb is a tease," Theon interrupts him.

Jon swallows hard, then licks his lips. "Aye, he is. He... he lead me."

"He did. He must've. No doubt." Theon nods. "He does act chaste most of the time, but you and I both know he is far from innocent."

Truth be told, Theon knows he is taking enormous risk now and he half-expects Jon to disagree and kick him out. But Jon does none of those things. Instead, encouraged by the wine and Theon's careful words that both soothe and lure, Jon tells Theon all that has happened. Jon knows Robb is his brother, but Robb himself has always initiated all the touches, all they shared. Jon at first struggled with these thoughts, tried to chase them away, but Robb kept on igniting some strange and disturbing fire with everything he said or did. Jon tried to fight it for so long, but it must be his wanton bastard nature, he says.

Theon is quick to reassure him. "You don't really believe that story, do you?"

Jon only pouts a little, looking down at first, but then raising his eyes to Theon. His look is that of a kicked puppy, and if at first Theon meant his kind words to serve a rather sinister purpose, now he really wishes to comfort him. "That story is rubbish, Jon. You are no more wanton than any other person. This is all perfectly common for boys your age. It's a natural and healthy interest. Nothing to be ashamed about."

Jon still looks unsure, but in his eyes Theon can see a great need to believe in what he's telling him, so he says, "Robb shows such interest too. Even more then you do." He doesn't add that Robb isn't a bastard, there's no need for that - Jon understood it all very well.

Jon takes a sip of his wine and continues pouring his heart out. Yes, he feels slightly guilty about it, but it is Robb's own fault. He started it, with his touches and his games. And now, Robb is acting so lordly, so righteously, as if he's so much better than everyone else. He even went as far as to  _scold_   him that day in the armoury, as if Jon was a naughty child.

Theon listens, nodding, making clever remarks that at first poke at Jon's wounds, then rub the soreness away.

The following day, though, Jon is sober and avoiding Theon. When Theon does catch up with him, the bastard gives him an accusing and hurt look, and Theon backs away. Later in the evening, during supper, Theon places a large goblet of wine right in the way of Jon's hand, while Jon is too busy laughing over something with Arya, and as he turns, the goblet falls down to the floor with a loud bang and all its contents end up on Sansa's pretty blue dress. Arya roars with laughter as Jon is apologizing to an already crying Sansa. Catelyn Stark seethes, glaring at Jon, until Ned Stark himself steps in, gives his bastard son a casual scolding for his carelessness, sending him off to his room. Theon soon follows with another flagon of wine, ready to sooth some feelings but stir some others too.

In the course of the next few days, this turns into a pattern. Sober, Jon seems to feel bad over what he speaks with Theon, but slightly drunk, his blood is boiling, he lets his defences drop and his resentment show. His lust too. Well, Theon can hardly blame him, because as strange as it seems, all of Jon's feelings mirror his own. The two of them have so much in common, it appears, and the source of all these things they seem to share is the future Lord of Winterfell.

Theon plays Jon so well, after a short while, he is agreeing to everything Theon suggests. The little lorldling needs a lesson. Who better to teach him than his brother and his best friend? It's for his own good.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Up until just a few days ago, Jon didn't know he had it in him to speak such words out loud. He feels his cheeks burn with shame, but he's gone too far to care now. In this moment, there's only Robb's squirmy ass pressed firmly against his crotch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My greatest thanks to my beloved [Heloisa](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Heloisa/pseuds/Heloisa) for being not only kind enough to do the beta but also for reassuring me when I was freaking out and doubting <3
> 
> I will never not fret over gifting written words to sweet and super talented [Rovardotter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Rovardotter/pseuds/Rovardotter) . I really hope you like this, dear, and that I have managed not to wander too astray from what you asked for <3

When Jon and Theon make their move, it happens so easily, without them even discussing it beforehand. Their mutual torment has built up so much, it is not possible to stay passive anymore, content with drunken talks about the dirty things that should be done to Robb to teach him a lesson. They find courage, even in the sober daytime, without the wine, and corner him in the hot pools.

Robb is just about to get in. Before, Jon would always look away, or at least  _pretend_  to look away as Robb would remove his smallclothes before entering the water. Now both Theon and Jon openly look - _leer_ even - and Robb, clearly uncomfortable, turns around.

Jon is the first to speak, albeit quietly, muttering to his beard, as if he himself is surprised to be taking this first step, ''But if that isn't a sight even more inviting..."

Theon laughs next to him, his hand hitting the water with a loud splash, and says, "Would you look at that ass!"

"Stop it. What's gotten into you?" Robb asks with a nervous smile as he enters the pool, and Jon can see him flinch slightly when they approach him. Two dark shapes, so nimble in the water, coming so dangerously close, and trapping Robb between them as he backs away, leaning against the rocks.

Theon's hand is the first to touch Robb. It strokes just his arm but Robb slaps it away. "Stop it!"

But then, either jealous of the familiarity Theon allowed himself and not wishing to be left out, or simply out of sheer desire to touch Robb, Jon is on him in a second, grabbing Robb's arms and pulling them behind his back. Robb thrashes about once or twice until Theon places his hand on his crotch, squeezing firmly. Robb yelps and calms down.

Jon thinks of how he too used to touch Robb there sometimes, shyly and with so much caution, reverence almost for that special place. A small part of him wants to slap Theon's hand away, but mostly, Jon is getting drunk on Theon's audacity, feeling Theon's boldness infect him too. Jon nods, and Theon starts speaking, "Good, Robb. Listen to us now--" 

"This is most improper and I am telling father," Robb cuts him off. But Theon squeezes harder and Jon yanks Robb's hair, twisting his head sideways, and again Robb yelps, wincing at the sudden pain.

Jon presses his crotch against Robb's ass, and starts rubbing against those firm muscles, so delicious now, wet and tense. Theon grinds his hips into Robb's thighs, hot water about them splashing in the same rhythm as their lewd movements. Robb is all flushed, red and embarrassed.

Jon whispers to his ear, "You have teased us enough, Robb."

Robb only whimpers and closes his eyes.

Jon can see Theon smile wickedly. "Now the time has come for you to surrender to us what you have so shamelessly flaunted. Can you feel your brother's cock against your asscheeks, Robb?" Theon asks. "Can you feel how hard and heavy it is? Go on, Jon, tell him what you'll do with it, let him feel it."

Jon presses his body even closer, firmer against Robb. He is reluctant, he knows this should be wrong, but he is also worked up, angry and aroused. He speaks, quietly, hesitantly, but clear enough, "Yes, Robb, can you feel it? You'll feel it well enough when I shove it up your ass...  so hard..."

Up until just a few days ago, Jon didn't know he had it in him to speak such words out loud. He feels his cheeks burn with shame, but he's gone too far to care now. In this moment, there's only Robb's squirmy ass pressed firmly against his crotch.

Theon just sneers at Robb's shock and discomfort, joining in on the threats. "Yes, Robb, no use playing coy now, we know what you want, what you need."

Robb catches his breath and, as if suddenly remembering who he is, speaks in his lordly tone, "This is madness, you are overstepping your boundaries. You have  _no_  right to do this,  _no_  right to say these things, and I will--"

"You will what?" Theon grabs his jaw tight, bringing his face even closer. "Go and cry to your lady mother again? Like you did that day when Jon hit you?"

Jon tenses up to these words and pulls Robb's hair viciously, pushing against him with even more force.

Robb whimpers. "I did  _not_  cry to my mother, you both know that. She saw the bruise. Stop it, Jon! This is inappropriate. Theon, let me go.  _Now_."

But Theon only laughs as Jon, provoked now by Theon's words, growls menacingly, "So I know now not to leave bruises where she can see them." His head sinks to Robb's shoulder, like he would kiss him, and he  _is_  kissing him, for a moment, but then Robb screams as Jon's teeth break his skin. He bites him hard and doesn't let go, sucking hungrily, as Robb squirms and quietly wails.

"There," Jon says when he finally stops. "She won't see this."

Robb's face is covered in tears, and he is sniffling softly, when suddenly they hear the unmistakable sound of someone approaching: branches breaking and shuffling leaves. Jon lets go of Robb's arms and Theon lets go of Robb's cock. They back away just in time before Sansa and Jeyne Poole emerge through the bushes. The girls gasp when they see them and turn around, allowing them privacy to step out of the pool and put their clothes back on. The three of them do so in silence. Robb heads towards the goodswood, and Jon and Theon back to the castle. They don't speak about what happened. There's no need. They both noticed that, for all his wailing and protests, Robb was hard.

 

Maybe because they fear that Robb really might tell someone what they did, what they threatenedto do, Jon and Theon leave him alone for the next few days. They don't even mention the incident among themselves. But the following week, encouraged by the lack of indication that Robb might speak of it to anyone, they make their next move.

All three of them are in the practice yard, being drilled by Ser Rodrik. It's been hours now and they all feel tired. Theon seems especially frustrated as his skill with a sword is inferior to both Jon's and Robb's and that makes him the favourite target of Ser Rodrik's sharp tongue. He always ends up suffering most blows, and not only because he cannot par with the brothers or Ser Rodrik equally well - Theon finds it hard to keep quiet, and every time he responds to the old knight's cruel japes, he is punished for his big mouth and his insolence with a hit of a practice sword. Jon never thought about it much before, but now he understands why sword practice gets Theon so worked up.

When the daily drill is finally over, the boys are instructed to return the swords to the armoury. It's dark inside and cold, a familiar scent of leather in the air. They are scattered around the room, everyone doing their own thing, and the silence between them is so heavy.

Jon's heart beats faster. Robb's presence seems so detached from this place, from them, from this moment - Robb is the only one making noise when he moves, the only one not clinging to the shadows, the only one really focused on the task ahead. Jon thinks he can smell Robb, the scent of his body even stronger than the leather, and he feels blood pumping in his ears.

Jon licks his lips - so dry - and looks at Theon. When Theon meets his gaze, a slight smirk on his lips, there's an unspoken understanding between them. They slow down whatever they're busy with, gingerly putting the swords and shields to the ground, while Robb, oblivious to their silent conversation, still tidies up.

Theon smiles, leaning against the wall, and Jon moves towards Robb slowly. Robb now notices they are acting strange and he starts walking towards the exit. He just needs to get past Theon and he's out. His eyes are on Jon who is approaching from his side, so he doesn't see Theon's leg in his way. He trips, falling face down. Jon jumps on him, pulling his arms above his head and sitting on them, while Theon comes to sit on his legs. Robb is trapped like that, pinned down to the ground and unable to move.

"Let me go," he says. But Jon is quiet and Theon laughs, their hands groping Robb in swift determined movements, so cruelly invasive.

"This is really not funny anymore. I  _will_ tell father, and you can be sure that he will--"

"Your brother talks too much, Jon, shut him up, " Theon instructs, and Jon, slightly annoyed to having been told what to do, yanks Robb by the hair, lifting his head painfully up, slaps him on the cheek and shoves three fingers to his mouth. Theon grins seeing that.

Jon is still uncomfortable with this, but he doesn't want to show it, neither to Robb nor to Theon. He cocks his brow at Theon, whose eyes nudge him on. "Yes, Jon, go on, tell him how a tease like him is best kept quiet."

"You whine too much, Robb," Jon says, as he pushes his fingers deeper inside, not sure if he's more angry with Theon for taking command or with Robb being a whiny tease.

Robb mumbles something, but it's unclear, as Jon is sliding his fingers back and forth, fucking his mouth like that.

Encouraged by Robb's meek resistance, and already gone too far, Jon sniggers, the rude words he says no longer making him surprised or ashamed. "You need a cock to shut you up."

Theon gives him an approving nod and, as expected, speaks words even more coarse, "Yes, Robb, just like that. Suck. Show us how you'll suck our cocks when they're all thick and heavy, throbbing on your tongue."

Robb groans in frustration, but that only makes Theon taunt him more. "You love it, don't you? You're salivating just to think of it. It's all right, we'll let you have a taste." He points at Jon's breeches, and Jon, overcoming a brief moment of hesitation, unlaces them, pulling his smallclothes down. Then Jon pulls his brother's face to press against his crotch and starts making small thrusting movements, rubbing his pubic hair all over Robb's lips and nose. Robb tries to move away and he is so red in the face, helpless and agitated, whining pathetically.

"Breathe, Robb. Can you smell it?" Jon says, his tone a low menacing whisper.

Robb again whines, but now Theon is laughing loudly, seeming impressed with Jon's words and actions. "We know you can," Theon says. "We know you won't be able to stop thinking about it. About how it would feel to lick it... to suck it... how it would feel like to  _choke_  on your brother's cock."

Theon tugs at Robb's breeches, exposing his pretty round buttocks. Robb tries to move, squirming and jerking, but he is held down securely. Theon gives his ass a very mean pinch, then smacks him hard with a practice sword, leaving a vicious red line, eliciting more sorrowful moans from Robb. He kneads the soft white flesh roughly, squeezing and pinching. "You are right, Jon, he is getting really excited about this. See how he squirms like a weasel? Don't worry, Robb, soon enough. Soon enough and you'll squirm beneath me."

Robb is again on the verge of tears. Jon and Theon are touching him, ruthlessly, inconsiderately, their hands set on invading, claiming, humiliating. But suddenly there are footsteps and Theon just manages to pull Robb's breeches up before Ser Rodrik shows up. They let Robb go. He is snivelling, all red in the face, wiping away his tears.

"What's going on in here?" Ser Rodrik demands to know. "Did they hit you, Robb?"

Jon and Theon stare at the ground. Robb hiccups a  _no._  But Ser Rodrik is not a fool, he's seen them hold him down. Thankfully, he has no idea what they've been doing, he thinks it was just a fight. Nonetheless, he sees Robb is shaken, despite denying he was hurt. Ser Rodrik slaps both Jon and Theon so hard their ears ring for the rest of the day. Then he sends them all out to wash and change before supper.

About an hour later, in the Great Hall, the dinner is served. It's rather informal, so Jon is allowed to sit at the table with his siblings. He and Theon sit next to Robb, each on one side. Robb's mood darkens, but he says nothing. Theon and Jon, however, say a lot of things.

"You said nothing to Ser Rodrik today," Jon starts, sulking over being hit earlier, but also over how stupid he feels to be blaming his brother for it, but he can't help it. "Because you liked everything we did to you."

Robb eats silently.

"Yes, you were disappointed he interrupted us," Theon picks up. "You would have wanted nothing more than to be shared between us. Fucked into the dirt like a common whore."

"Stop it," Robb hisses, but Theon's hand squeezes his thigh, and he gasps and goes quiet again.

"Little whore." Jon scoffs, and he, too, places his hand right next to Robb's crotch. Theon nods approvingly, and Jon beams at it. They massage Robb under the table, caress his thighs, and soon they notice Robb is getting hard. He tries to shake their hands away, tries to squeeze his legs shut, tries to hide his arousal, but they see it, and again they tease him.

"The little lordling likes it?" Theon asks, grinning.

Then Jon, encouraged by Theon's words and a cup of ale they are allowed with their dinner, leans even closer to Robb and rubs him through his breeches, whispering. "Do you still like my hand on your cock like you did before, Robb?"

Robb doesn't answer, he just breaths hard, his hands visibly shaking as he holds his cutlery.

Theon leans to whisper to his other ear. "Of course he likes it. He likes to be touched, don't you, little lordling?"

"Please stop." Robb is squirming in his seat, a flushed mess.

But Theon only rubs him harder. "You do love to be touched, Robb. And not only there, you also love fingers and hands on your ass, I saw it today in the armoury, how you were grinding your hips, rutting against the floor like a bitch in heat."

Robb sniffles. "I wasn't. Please."

"Yes, you were, we all saw it. You were hoping we would fuck you right there on that dirty floor. You are a true little slut, Robb, you loved us touching you today in the armoury and you also love us touching you now." Theon increases the pressure on Robb's crotch, and Robb squirms even more and whimpers quietly, his eyes begging them to stop.

Jon thinks how it would feel to let his fingers go even further down, beneath Robb's cock, all the way down, past Robb's balls, right to the crease Robb seems to guard so protectively, clenching his thighs and ass, as he squirms over his supper.

Theon chuckles. "Yes, you love it. And let me tell you what else you will love. My fingers up your ass, spreading you, getting you ready for my cock. And my cock, Robb, you will  _love_ it. You will take it whole like a good little whore,begging for more."

Jon sees the effect of Theon's words, not only by his own raging erection, but also hearing how Robb whimpers loudly all of a sudden.  All eyes turn to them, causing the boys to quickly sit further apart, pretending all is as usual, and that they were not up until a moment ago rubbing the heir of Winterfell under the table and whispering obscenities in his ear.

"Robb," Lady Stark's tone is full of concern. "Are you unwell?"

Robb only shakes his head meekly, proceeding with his meal.

Ser Rodrik then starts telling Lord Stark how he caught Jon and Theon hitting Robb in the armoury, but as he explains how he took it upon himself to chastise them, Ned Stark only stares at them for the longest moment. Jon can see Theon pales instantly, and he knows he himself must be as white. They hardly dare breathe, anticipating what Robb might say and what Lord Stark then might do. But Robb remains quiet.

"Ser Rodrik did well to slap you. And you'll get much more than a slap if I ever hear of you fighting again," Ned Stark says in his stern tone, and Jon can't help but think they were lucky this time - Robb kept his mouth shut.

 

Once the supper is finished, they all retreat to their chambers for the night. Again, Jon and Theon say nothing. They only exchange knowing glances - they both see how Robb is still flushed and how the bulge in his pants is still quite prominent. And as they all walk down the dark corridor on the second floor, where their rooms are, they also notice how, for the first time in his life, Robb bolts his chamber door behind him.


End file.
